ppointment as
attache to a plenipotentiary at the Congress of Laybach, he wished to
take advantage of the opportunity to make some study of Italy on the
way. This ball was a sort of farewell to Paris and its amusements and
its rapid whirl of life, to the great eddying intellectual centre and
maelstrom of pleasure; and a pleasant thing it is to be borne along
by the current of this sufficiently slandered great city of Paris. Yet
Charles de Vandenesse had little to regret, accustomed as he had been
for the past three years to salute European capitals and turn his back
upon them at the capricious bidding of a diplomatist's destiny. Women
no longer made any impression upon him; perhaps he thought that a real
passion would play too large a part in a diplomatist's life; or perhaps
that the paltry amusements of frivolity were too empty for a man
of strong character. We all of us have huge claims to strength of
character. There is no man in France, be he ever so ordinary a member of
the rank and file of humanity, that will waive pretensions to something
beyond mere cleverness.

Charles, young though he was--he was scarcely turned thirty--looked at
life with a philosophic mind, concerning himself with theories and
means and ends, while other men of his age were thinking of pleasure,
sentiments, and the like illusions. He forced back into some inner depth
the generosity and enthusiasms of youth, and by nature he was generous.
He tried hard to be cool and calculating, to coin the fund of wealth
which chanced to be in his nature into gracious manners, and courtesy,
and attractive arts; 'tis the proper task of an ambitious man, to play a
sorry part to gain "a good position," as we call it in modern days.

He had been dancing, and now he gave a farewell glance over the rooms,
to carry away a distinct impression of the ball, moved, doubtless, to
some extent by the feeling which prompts a theatre-goer to stay in
his box to see the final tableau before the curtain falls. But M. de
Vandenesse had another reason for his survey. He gazed curiously at the
scene before him, so French in character and in movement, seeking to
carry away a picture of the light and laughter and the faces at
this Parisian fete, to compare with the novel faces and picturesque
surroundings awaiting him at Naples, where he meant to spend a few
days before presenting himself at his post. He seemed to be drawing the
comparison now between this France so variable, cha